Hermy Hullabaloos
by Kitavarie
Summary: What happens when a highly irate Hermione Granger "fails" her History of Magic final exam? Better start searching for a pair of decent earplugs, or better yet call up good 'ol Fred and George to invent something completely-and-utterly soundproof.


**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter_ and affiliated characters are property of the mastermind, J. K. Rowling. This piece of fanfiction is intended for entertainment purposes only.

**A/N:** Hey guys, this is my second fanfic story, and my first one under the brilliant HP fandom. This is a silly little fic which might just be a one-shot depending on what you readers think of it. So please give my story a chance, and read and review!

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Chapter 1: Howling Hiccups

Hermione Granger sat on the couch facing the Gryffindor fireplace. She hadn't flinched since Fred and George's post-exam celebrations finished; an event that sent many Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs, Bubblegum Boomerangs, and U-No-Poo products ricocheting off the walls of the common room. As it was, this habitual fiesta had ended a good two-and-a-half-hours ago—after Professor McGonagall had barged into the room, hollering about a noise complaint, and then threatening to give all of the Gryffindors a detention with Filch. Even after Harry and Ron had retired to their dormitories after fruitlessly trying to comfort Hermione, Hermione remained motionless; she was still sitting in the same place, staring icily, and idly, at the dancing flames.

She could still see question 138 clearly in her mind. It was on a sheet of faded yellow parchment. There was a crease on the corner of her answer-sheet since she had been so frustrated, and did not even realize that her elbow was grinding the exam. Certainly, she could remember the test question, and of course, being Hermione, she had memorized the entire exam.

_#138: What caused the Grumbling Goblins to leave their homes in the Caves off the east coast of Ireland?_

Hermione had wracked her brains, searching through every one of her photographic memories, and had formulated an answer—although she was positively certain that it would be marked false. Hermione could not even begin to fathom how Ron could have gotten the correct answer to question 138 and not her. Why hadn't she thought of writing what Ron had written?

The moment the exam was finished, she cornered Harry and Ron, and demanded each of them to repeat their answer of #138 to her. And she was awfully surprised to find that Ronald—whom was usually slightly green after exams—actually regained some of his usual coloring back (and had even grinned) when he told her of his answer. Apparently, Ronald had written:

_Answer does not exist, and if it does, I am under no obligation to answer this since it does not pertain to the course curriculum. However, under these excruciating circumstances in which you require me to write something down on this piece of parchment or else I suffer from a failing grade, I am therefore forced to write that the Grumbling Goblins never left their homes and they most probably still live there, and that your question is completely invalid, given what I said earlier about the answer not existing. _

Ronald was even cheeky enough to state that _With all due respect, P. Binns, I hope that what remains of your memory has not failed you entirely, and that you quite remember that we are learning 'A exploration of Wizarding History: Year 5', and not 'A exploration of Wizarding History: Year 7' if there even is such a book._

True, Ronald Weasley had completely fabricated the entire answer on a whim and with no explicit references, but it was an ingenious answer which also happened to be right—much to Hermione's dismay upon bolting the library and researching the answer. Or rather, not finding an answer since none existed. And Ronald would not even be penalized for his answer since Professor Binns had scrawled: _Note: Question 138 is an open ended response. Show all work with logical deductions. 12 Marks._

And what had she written? The top-of-the-class (and possibly the top-in-all-of-Hogwarts) had written: _The Grumbling Goblins, also known as possibly the greatest blacksmiths known to the Wizarding World ever since the collapse of the Boggart Empire in 709 B.C., had evacuated the Growling Caves (est. 712 B.C.) since the Merpeople had showed signs of territorial expansion as shown in their cave-burnings, and alluring fatal siren-singing competitions*. This thereby angered the Goblins, which resulted in many rude merpeople taunting. (In fact, it should be known that the insult, Harpy, resulted from the vast differences of the Grumbling Goblins and Association of the Merpeople's foreign policies.) As a consequence, the subsequent years passed with much tension between the two species, which ultimately led to Merpeople invasion of the Goblin residences. _

_*Please note that the above was extracted from Vying Wizardry: A Study of the Differences among Magical Beings. _

It was terrible, and not to mention, utterly embarrassing. She had stated the wrong reference! She meant to write _Vying Wizardry: A Study of the Differences among Magical __Adversaries_. This was completely unlike herself.

When it came to it, her answer would be marked as incorrect regardless of its stated reference. Her _Vying Wizardry _book had been one that she was reading as a bedtime story, and was not on the Fifth years' curriculum. Professor Binns would be bound to mark her wrong, since he might not have read the book. And she would have a final mark of 188/200, which would be equivalent to a 94%, which would be 6% less than her usual average.

And what was more terrible was the fact that Ronald had beat her in something academic.

And she was a failure.

And it was unbearable.

Hermione sobbed hysterically to herself, placed her knees close to her chest, wrapped her arms around her knees, and buried her face. Her bushy hair veiled her fuming cheeks. She rocked herself back and forth in a fit of fury and self-repulsion, and oddly in time with the crackle and hiss of the spitting, smirking flames in the fireplace. A quarter of an hour later, when some of her rational brain had returned to its proper location, her hiccups began.

"Stop it Herm… Herm (hiccup) mione. Control yourself. Stop it (hiccup) Hermy (hiccup)—"

"—Hermy?" A deep, highly amused voice reverberated across the common room. Harry Potter had appeared out of nowhere. And beside him was the blasted, I'm-so-brilliant-for-one-day Ronald Weasley with a smug expression etched across his face.

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**A/N:** Well, what did you think? Should I continue this story? All feedback/comments/suggestions are welcome. There's an awesome little button right at the bottom of this page that says "Review this story/chapter". Click on it? Thanks =)


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